carnal lust and temptation
...remember my old ongoing astral travel/low tech sense of mastrubation/fornacation?....well i caved into it again...but the sad part is that my only choices for a muse or fantasy are pedophiles and rapist....well it's not like i'd use someone decent or well one that's too sacred to me, for a muse....the only thing is that it's got me doing my thing in public parks and well, not just bonelli, and ganesha...it's no secret....before it was a private thing, in my room, under the influence, actually , eh nevermind...there was a time when i didn't have to be high, late teen years....boy sex was just not normal for me...ever...and it's rare and few and far in between, the actual real thing which i hate....really don't like....if it's done i want it over with....but this thing with my dry humping the what is underneath me, well it was like a revelation, then became just so dirty, and well later i felt dysfunctional....and the it got to a point to where, i'd lie there, ashamed and feeling close to death and wonderin' why i was doing this, cuts and blisters on my elbows and kneees, and just looked like death, depleted of moisture and rerst, and well just ravaged by the experience...even my groin was blood drenched, and just cuts all around, and once even looked like it was severed through deep enough...to shower would be so miserable...but then i'd heal and or go sober and here we go again...wel to be honest i hate sex, and don't even touch my self itf i have to...i told this to people that i trust and care about, and well, family members and friends, were like like "wow, that changes everything i know about you." and my brother rusty asked me "really how does that work out?" and well the realy blow to my ego and sense of privacy...was when i started to be home invadded but didn't know it then to be so, at the time, through electronic magnetic transportation and i didn't have the word for it then was astral travel,...when this group of people threw it in my face, i mean heard these voices and them asking "beaux , why are you crying?" and i was like where is this coming from? and they'd ask , "wha t's wrong" and well , then it turned into, this person wanting to have sex with me, put a knife top my neck and cut me from ear to ear, while screwing me." i told "cool when do ya want to meet?" then he said called me a sick f$%k ya know that?" and i was like "i'm a sick f43K , YOU'VE BEEN WATCHing ME FOR MONTHS AND YOU WANT TO PUT A KNIFE TO MY THROAT WHILE SCREWING ME...I DON'T KNOW., I THINK YOU GOT IT TWISTED...i asked how are you watching me, how are you talking to me? and well this twisted conversation went on for about wow, all day...and i began to speak to them about my mother's death and began to cry....i guess i missed her and wished she was around...she had been dead since '82. and i thought i had been well , it had been long enough for me to move on...and then some sick morbid bitch got on the frequency and started to talk shit , really bad and, well threw all my private alone time secrets in my face including going into the ulv computer lab, to look at some racy pics, i was embarrassed , morftified, and just like wow, this has to be part of my imagination, chalked it up to drugs and psychosis, and being dellussional,and well called miss lydia gabaldon, an family friend, and asked her if she could pick me up and get me out of the house becuase here i was just so unsettled by the whole creeping experience, i didn't feel safe,i went to my step-grandmother's home where my brother's robert's and rusty's place, and i got there and it was decided that i stay there fro now on, because well, i had ronnie and my cousin greg basically not be there for me, like thought i was off my rocker and ronnie and i weren't speaking...and at the time ronnie could be pretty cruel, and greg was slowly staring to change...but at no fault of their own, they may have been dead already...willed out for good....things i had no idea that exsisted. anyway, i just remember hearing voices no one else heard... i do remember a gentleman standing outside the window of my brother's grandmother's home naked with this huge erection...shaking it at me...i just buried my face into the pillow and cried...i felt defeated, humilated , violated...not safe...ofcourseout of my mind. today and three home invasions later, i understand it to be what leonard glick's criminology text book calls the mark, the touch and brush off. our country, our sate of california, our home town of la verne , pomona, nad claremont, something wicked this way blew in...and it was all hig/low tech, done on a meta physical tip....quantum physics i might add. it was called "the secret recipe for schizophrenia" is what in order for me, and ofcourse thousands of others.
anyway....i have no one to go home to, no friends really to call my own...just alot of support and well wishers who can tell me so to my face but from a broadband prespective...i totally understand , and lvoe them...more than they know...even though my big mouth can really say other wise...i say the most terrible things, racist things, hateful, things, and it's like saying i don't care or inflicting pain on them or with whom i believe to them....is supposed to give me relief...of some sort....but in reality it's jst a cowards way of trying to show the opposing side that i'm just not giving a shit....that i'm too strong and too busy for anyone's bullshit or to care about them , our children, women and our boys, men...and those lsot souls, spirits, and angels....those energys that our willed out of their bodies and made into a different exsistence....they are so adorable, sweet and loving....so helpful and well i don't get to spendf the time i did in the beginning , because they get murdered , raped, abused, and enslaved...don't get fed unless they have sexual relation with these people...at ganesha park they have them , willed into birds and you can hear them or leaves or what not, animals, plastic bags or fabric, or bicycles, and they get willed back out nad made into a synthetic existence and being or just brought back into human existence and rape....and drained of their bllod and int these accordian like bottle , that carries their blood, this homeless man johnny left one behind....i see him do what he does and well, he's able to slpit his body into half, or metamorphosis, into this like morbid like twisting of body limbs and just not normal....i tell himt to stay away from , as nice as he is, just don't come near me, because he will try to be intimate with you, nad he can minimize himself into a tiny grain of like salt to steal what it is you have...and trust i've seen what i have in my hand just disappear....ulyesses anothny luis gattaca berrill can do the same...herkie his freind his stand in undeerneathy, didn't fair so well, they murdered him...poor kid. i was so rude to him...he was tweleve...anyway...at ganesha and bonelli park and joslyn here in claremont they just really go past normal boundaries that pedophiles usually or used to go, they are so out in the open , public about it. and swear it's okay, it's right or the way of the world....they murder these daily like it's a walk inthe park...especially this marie callender's trick ass bitch , child moeslter named nancy or pam , she used work over at michael's j's....more on that later. who else? eh...does it matter...?i just want to be left alone...or die....maybe time. roy-royz and fuffyz....i love you and as i do...the little girl who was left over by the picnic benches, with her face etched with confusion and pain , her resting on the table her body lifeless, you could tell she had been crying, this image of this girl the way i found her, hit close to home because , my mother was found the same way and her body was slumped over lifeless just like this little girls, who had her head beaten in , because she spoke up about a her pepsi soda that someone forgot to buy....he said she got on his nerves, so yup bonelli park is not the place to be or ganesha park...children and women end up dead there every day....and anyone will agree....there's no more denying it.
anyway....i have no one to go home to, no friends really to call my own...just alot of support and well wishers who can tell me so to my face but from a broadband prespective...i totally understand , and lvoe them...more than they know...even though my big mouth can really say other wise...i say the most terrible things, racist things, hateful, things, and it's like saying i don't care or inflicting pain on them or with whom i believe to them....is supposed to give me relief...of some sort....but in reality it's jst a cowards way of trying to show the opposing side that i'm just not giving a shit....that i'm too strong and too busy for anyone's bullshit or to care about them , our children, women and our boys, men...and those lsot souls, spirits, and angels....those energys that our willed out of their bodies and made into a different exsistence....they are so adorable, sweet and loving....so helpful and well i don't get to spendf the time i did in the beginning , because they get murdered , raped, abused, and enslaved...don't get fed unless they have sexual relation with these people...at ganesha park they have them , willed into birds and you can hear them or leaves or what not, animals, plastic bags or fabric, or bicycles, and they get willed back out nad made into a synthetic existence and being or just brought back into human existence and rape....and drained of their bllod and int these accordian like bottle , that carries their blood, this homeless man johnny left one behind....i see him do what he does and well, he's able to slpit his body into half, or metamorphosis, into this like morbid like twisting of body limbs and just not normal....i tell himt to stay away from , as nice as he is, just don't come near me, because he will try to be intimate with you, nad he can minimize himself into a tiny grain of like salt to steal what it is you have...and trust i've seen what i have in my hand just disappear....ulyesses anothny luis gattaca berrill can do the same...herkie his freind his stand in undeerneathy, didn't fair so well, they murdered him...poor kid. i was so rude to him...he was tweleve...anyway...at ganesha and bonelli park and joslyn here in claremont they just really go past normal boundaries that pedophiles usually or used to go, they are so out in the open , public about it. and swear it's okay, it's right or the way of the world....they murder these daily like it's a walk inthe park...especially this marie callender's trick ass bitch , child moeslter named nancy or pam , she used work over at michael's j's....more on that later. who else? eh...does it matter...?i just want to be left alone...or die....maybe time. roy-royz and fuffyz....i love you and as i do...the little girl who was left over by the picnic benches, with her face etched with confusion and pain , her resting on the table her body lifeless, you could tell she had been crying, this image of this girl the way i found her, hit close to home because , my mother was found the same way and her body was slumped over lifeless just like this little girls, who had her head beaten in , because she spoke up about a her pepsi soda that someone forgot to buy....he said she got on his nerves, so yup bonelli park is not the place to be or ganesha park...children and women end up dead there every day....and anyone will agree....there's no more denying it.